Restoring Imperfection
by PcKtmouse
Summary: Unofficial sequel to "Perfect Imperfection". Three years have passed since Silver promised to call on Jim, and the troubled teen begins to wonder just how good the pirates word really is. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Disney/R.L. Stevenson (Unless they dont appear in either the movie or the book - then there's a good chance they belong to me) Original story belongs to Person4

Okay, so this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction (Fanfiction2x ?) entitled "Perfect Imperfection" by Person4. If you had not read the story, then scurry on over there and do so, especially if you are planning on reading this! (Even if you aren't planning on reading mine, go read it anyway, it is a good story.) It's hard to follow this story if you haven't read "Perfect Imperfection" as it's designed to be an unofficial sequel.

I have the expressed permission of Person4 to do this story, so please no flames; unless we're having a BBQ, in which case I will bring the hot dogs.

Also, this is a JxS fic, so if it happens that you don't care for this pairing, DO NOT PANIC. Simply hover the arrow over the red X and click. Repeat as necessary.

* * *

Three years.

It had been three years since the Benbow's grand opening, three years since his acceptance into the Academy, since his fateful reunion with Silver on a 'borrowed' wine boat that had completely revitalized his life, and since his first kiss with the same man on said vessel.

Three years, and still no word.

James Hawkins sighed and rolled onto his back to stare at the opaque white ceiling above him, the weathered four-poster bed he laid on groaning in protest. Even though it was midday, Jim wanted nothing more than to lie on his bed and absorb the rare moment of silence – only offered when his roommate was gone – that had settled over the room. Recently, each day had become more and more like the last, locked up in his room brooding over his own sadness. His depression had deepened four months ago when, after two and a half years of keeping his shape-shifting pet, Morph, a secret, the mischievous blob had followed Jim to his Advanced Biology class and imitated a preserved Kalyptian frog. Jim hadn't even known about Morph's misadventure until his partner's soon-to-be-dissected frog suddenly sprang up and performed a muddled version of the Can-Can. It had taken all of Amelia's persuasion to convince the headmaster not to expel him, but Morph had been sent back to the Benbow and the company of Jim's mother. Not even solar surfing lifted his spirits anymore; but the pain of losing his troublemaking friend wasn't the only cause of his condition.

'_Why hasn't he sent word yet?'_ He and Silver had parted three years ago with the promise that the older man would send word for Jim when he was ready…

'_Ready to what?' Jim wondered, 'to start a relationship? To settle down?'_

Was the cyborg even capable of something as serious as entering a monogamous relationship; or, more importantly, was he willing to? Jim wasn't sure; all he knew was that he had received no letter from Silver – not even a scrap of news about the pirate in the newspaper, although that last bit was likely a good thing.

'_Why?'_

A thousand answers came to mind, but none that fully satisfied him; had the cyborg failed at finding an honest job, had he had some sort of run-in with the law, or, Jim's worst fear had he simply lost interest in his cabin boy?

"Why hasn't he sent for me?" He asked the ceiling.

"Why hasn't who sent for you?"

Jim bolted upright as his roommate, Evan, closed the door behind him and immediately dumped his book bag on his bed amongst a pile of clutter before turning to Jim with a large grin. "You waitin' on word from the Professor? Trying to get a little more kiss ass in before final grades"?

"Shut up, Evan", Jim snarled, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow.

"..cause personally I would rather fuckin' fail, and.."

"_Evan_."

"..I mean, it's Music Theory, now when the _fuck_, are we going to need Music Theory?"

"When you get thrown off your own ship and have to play the pennywhistle on the street for money."

"Oh my _God_ you're a terrible person". Jim smiled against his pillow and turned his head slightly to observe Evan as he struggled to remove his left boot. "And by the way Jim, if Cindy calls…"

"You mean Stacy", Jim interrupted and Evan quickly glanced up to meet his eyes, one foot hovering in the air by his hands.

"I mean Cindy."

"No, you mean Stacy. Cindy was three weeks ago."

"_Shit_!" Evan dropped to the floor and banged his fists on the ground like a tempered two-year old. "I've been callin' her Cindy this whole time!"

"Maybe that's why she dumped you."

"Fuck! Well, if she calls or anything, just….just tell her I died or something. She's fuckin' psycho." And with that he rose to his feet just long enough to reposition himself over his bed, before he collapsed again.

Jim sighed quietly, and when he spoke his voice was weary, "You really shouldn't jump from one girl to another like you do." Jim couldn't recall how many times he had said this particular line to his friend, but in all honesty he couldn't blame the young man. Evan was human, like Jim, but possessed an unnatural beauty, his skin was clear and fair, his hair the perfect tint of blonde, a muscular body from swimming, and also the most conceded personality Jim had _ever_ encountered. As though he could read Jim's thoughts Evan waved a finger at him in mock scorn, "Hey man, I can't be blamed for my uncontrollable libido, besides were young, this is when were supposed to have fun."

Jim flinched and buried himself further into his soft pillow. He was supposed to be having _fun_. He was supposed to be experimenting and reckless and enjoying himself. Not wasting his best years on an empty promise from…

Jim's eyes widened even before the thought had been completed. Was he wasting his time? He had already waited three years for a message that had yet to come, and how did he know that it ever would? Before he could consider this notion, Evan pushed himself to his elbows and grinned. "Hey, let's go out tonight, you and me."

"No thanks", Jim replied routinely. Evan went out every night, no matter the circumstances. He was the only cadet in the history of the Academy to get completely and utterly hammered the night before finals – and pass with a C average, a fact that he was much too proud of.

"Come on man, just this once", he pleaded, "Or how about tomorrow? I've got a hot date lined up, and I can find some girl for you."

"Who's your date?"

Evan grinned. "You know Sophie Clements?"

Jim sat up straight; Sophie Clements was the governor's eldest daughter, a felinid, sophisticated, and incredibly – almost eerily – beautiful. "You have a date with Sophie Clements?"

"No, its her lil' sister Deborah, but they're family so they have the same hotness genes, right? It's all about genetics."

Jim made a face, "You mean you haven't even seen her?"

Evan coolly waved him off, "I don't need to man, she's a guaranteed hottie. So how about it? I bet Kate from Tactics would jump at the chance to snog with you – you could proubly get her to _pay_ just to spend a night with you." Jim blushed slightly and pressed his face back into his pillow. He had not yet gathered the courage to tell his roommate that not only did he already have a romantic figure in mind, but that the figure in question was a pirate – _and a man_.

'_A man that I haven't seen or heard from in three years…and might not ever.'_

This overwhelming possibility made Jim's heart feel even heavier than before. Sensing his distress, Evan rose from his bed across the room and made to touch Jim on his shoulder; but he recoiled and walked briskly back to the door.

"I'll see you later tonight man, alright? Take a nap or something, 'cause honestly, you look like shit." And with a last chesire grin he left as quickly as he had come.

Left alone again with the silence Jim quickly decided that sleep was exactly what he needed. He reached down and grasped a quilt with his fingertips, pulling the thick cover himself and turning on his side to face the wall, his mind still racing with mutinous doubts and questions.

How much longer could he wait?

* * *

I thought I should mention that this is not a one-shot, there will be at least three more chapters. Reviews on how to improve the dialogue are especially appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Disney characters are not mine, OC characters are (duh), original story belongs to Person4

Woot! Chapter two. For a person who writes one-shots, this is monumental. Like my first Ipod or something. Again, credit for the continuing plot belongs to our very own Person4.

* * *

Jim woke many times during the day, but never left his bed and eventually he slept through the night; waking only once after dreaming of Silver. Evan came and went, but neither acknowledged the other; while Evan didn't understand the reason for Jim's mourning, he knew that something was wrong but didn't know how to comfort his friend. All he could do was to replace the quilt that Jim frequently kicked off the bed, and once he offered to bring him some medicine from the nurse only to be turned down. His inability to help his sullen roommate only agitated him more, and so Evan reluctantly crept out of the room and down the hall, leaving Jim to rest.

"Mr. Troskey, sir!"

The cadet turned to find a freshman running towards him, three envelopes in his hands. Evan recognized the young man, he was in several organizations and was rushing for Evan's fraternity, but he guiltily realized he didn't know his name. _'Oh well, plenty of time to learn it.'_

"What is it?"

The freshman skidded to a halt in front of him leaving black skid marks in his tread, "Excuse me Sir, but are you busy at the moment?"

Evans brows furrowed. "You stopped me in the hall to ask me if I'm busy?" The younger boy shifted nervously under his scrutinizing gaze. It was not a good start.

"Sorry sir, but these letters are for you, and the office is about to close so I thought I should get them to you – in case they're important."

Evan couldn't decide if the boy was kissing ass, or if he was genuinely concerned.

"Oh", he added, fishing a fourth letter from his pocket, "and this is for Mr. Hawkins, sir. I thought he might need his too."

Maybe he really _was_ just concerned. Evan took the letters and half-heartedly flipped through them. "What was your name again, kid?"

"Mikks, sir."

"And you're rushing for Kappa Beta, right?"

"Yes, sir!" The boy had an absolutely awed expression, as though Evan had offered to introduce him to the Queen herself. The older cadet grinned and slapped Mikks square on the back. "Well, I'll tell you what Mikks, you make sure I get my mail everyday – and I mean everyday – and I can make sure you get a slot, alright?"

For a moment Mikks didn't speak, but then he straightened to his full height and pumped Evan's hand. "Yes sir! I promise, everyday, sir! I'll get it to you on time!"

"Alright! Now go on and do whatever it is you little freshman do", but Mikks was already gone. Smiling to himself, Evan retraced his steps back to his room, the letters in hand. He sincerely hoped that Mikks didn't screw up his mail order – he rather liked the kid, and having a personal freshman lackey didn't seem too bad an idea either.

Jim examined the note left on his nightstand, under which was a small, white envelope. It was nearly noon; he had slept all yesterday afternoon, all night and through the morning. Tonight was the night of Evan's date, not that he had reconsidered about going; all Jim wanted was to take a much needed bathroom trip and then back to bed. That was before he had caught sight of the envelope and the scrawled message on top of it.

_Jim – _

_You got a letter today, proubly informing you about your perfect grade average you bastard. Or it could be from your mom; I really can't think of anyone else who would want to write your sorry ass. Haha. Don't think I forgot about tonight, I want you to go._

_-Evan_

_P.S. Your mom is hot._

For the first time in ages Jim laughed, not because of the note so much as from imagining the look on his mother's face if she ever read it – and he intended to show it to her his next visit.

"Damn it Evan", he chuckled, and carefully folded the note, placing it inside his drawer before fully turning his sight to the envelope. His hand reached for the sealed back, preparing to rip it open when he suddenly stopped. There was something unusual about the envelope, a detail that he had not noticed before but that now commanded his attention.

There was no return address.

Jim's eyes focused on the upper left hand corner, the blank corner.

No return address.

The young man clutched the unopened envelope to his chest and forced himself to take a breath. _'Okay, don't get carried away, but why wouldn't someone put a return address?'_

No permanent address? Maybe they recently moved or are moving?

_Or they don't want it to be traced._

Despite his attempted control, Jim's heart beat faster and his breath was shallow and quick.

Could it be Silver? Had he finally sent word for him?

Hesitantly, Jim reached for the seal of the envelope. A thousand emotions coursed through his body, but the only one that prevailed was fear.

What if it _wasn't_ him?

What if the letter wasn't a beckon call from his mentor, but simply a message from the headmaster, like Evan suggested, or a book of coupons? What if this letter proved once and for all that Silver had forgotten about his former crewmate and companion? That he had no intention of summoning Jim to his side; not now, not when he found an honest job.

Not ever.

Jim's trembling fingers enclosed tighter over the envelope and he squeezed his blue eyes shut. He couldn't handle being abandoned again, first by his own father and now Silver, the only man he had completely trusted and loved in years. If he had been rejected….

The young man bit his bottom lip and suddenly wished Morph was with him, or B.E.N., or even the Doc, just so he wouldn't be alone anymore.

"I am", Jim's voice was low and dry, and his throat itched when he spoke, "I am alone."

He sat there for what seemed like hours, though it was only a matter of minutes. Finally, the boy rose and, opening the drawer of his nightstand, placed the envelope inside, tucked between the wooden bottom and his spare stamps. Jim's urge to relieve himself that had awakened him from his sleep had passed; so the young man slunk back under his heavy quilt, and focused on forgetting about the letter.

* * *

For those of you who are thinging 'Wow, Jim is acting like a wimp', or something along those lines; let me assure you that when your depressed, all you want to do is stay in bed - even if your not sleeping, you just don't want to get up. Having recently suffered through a mild attack, I know first hand what it's like.

Don't go away! Next chapter: Cat-fight between the roomies!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Evan and the Clements sisters belong to me. Thats all.

Moved to M because of the language that Evan uses. I hope no one is easily offended by reading the 'F' bomb. As always, original story belongs to Person4.

Also! I has a picture of what Deborah and her sister Sophie look like. :3

* * *

Jim was woken by the sound of cannon fire being shot through his wall.

Moments before he had been fitfully dreaming of the Legacy mutiny, of being shot out of the sky by Meltdown after a narrow escape via longboat, when the explosion startled him from his sleep. It was only after a few precious seconds of absolute fear, Jim sitting upright in bed - reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, that he realized the cannon fire was actually Evan forcefully slamming the door behind him. Jim quickly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hide his foolishness while also suppressing his anger.

"Evan, what the Hell I was sleeping, damnit. What time is it, I thought you were supposed to be out?" Evan didn't answer him, and Jim fumbled on his nightstand for his watch. "Damnit, Evan, its one in the morning! What the Hell are you-."

"Shut up Hawkins", Evan snarled, forcefully pulling off his boots without untying them, " just shut the Hell up. I am fuckin' pissed right now, you got that? No, I'm fuckin' beyond being pissed off, I don't even know what the Hell I am!" Jim massaged his temple with his fingers; he knew something bad had happened, but he was too tired and angry to sympathize.

"Alright, what the hell happened?"

Evan turned to him, his face twisted with fury. "You wanna know what happened? I fuckin' left here thinkin' I was gonna get laid tonight by a hot, younger version of Sophie, I mean, I was planning on it – I got condoms and everything." Evan began pacing, and Jim's eyes wearily followed, "but the fuckin' jokes on me, 'cause that girl is…shes not even a _girl_. She's a fuckin' mutant….thing that I can't even describe; and her sister looks me in the fuckin' eye and says 'Oh, I thought you two would be just fuckin' perfect for each other, cause my sister has had a fuckin' crush on you for like, ever, and'…._Fuck!"_

Jim felt the sudden urge to wrap his hands around his roommate's neck. "So you got pissed 'cause Deborah Clements is ugly? That's why you woke me and half the universe up with your moaning?

"Like you haven't been sleeping all fuckin' day", Evan retorted, "and she wasn't just ugly, she was…Fuck, I can't even think of a word to…."

"And so you just left?"

Evan looked surprised. "Why the fuck shouldn't I have?"

"Because that's a horrible thing to do to someone", a sharp pain coursed through Jim's heart, "and just cause she's ugly doesn't mean she..."

"Ok, now you're pissing me off. Just shut the fuck up."

Jim suddenly jumped to his feet and placed himself within inches of Evan's face; his anger and heartache had taken over his senses, and the boy was only half-aware that he had even moved.

"And stop saying 'fuck', I'm getting sick of hearing it!"

"I'll fuckin' say the word fuck any fuckin' time I want to, fucker!"

"SHUT UP!"

"YOU GOT A FUCKIN' PROBLEM?"

"You're the problem!" Jim was screaming, the pain in his chest overwhelming, "you're an asshole!"

"Because I left the ugly mutant!?" Evan was screaming back, his nose was practically touching Jim's. "What the fuck was I supposed to do, put a paper bag over her head and take her to dinner?"

"You're an asshole 'cause you take people for granted! You go through girls like tissues! Like they're replaceable!"

"_They are_!"

A fresh wave of pain; Jim stumbled backwards and Evan, mistaking his weakness as a retreat, quickly re-closed the gap and griped Jim's shirt in his fists.

"They are replaceable! There are more than a thousand million girls in this universe – they're a resource! So why the hell should I worry about one?"

"Because it hurts..." Jim's voice was barely a whisper.

Evan tilted his head forward to hear him. "What?"

"_Because it hurts_!" Jim screamed, "_It hurts to be left behind_!"

The two boys stood face to face in silence for several moments; the only sound was Jim's heavy breathing and the beating of both their hearts. When Evan finally spoke, his voice was softer, calmer than it had been all night.

"Jim…"

Evan looked up from his clenched fists and was shocked when he met his roommate's gaze; Jim's blue eyes were brimming with tears.

"It hurts Evan," Jim whispered, "I know you don't understand, but….it hurts so much when someone….someone you care about leaves you behind; and you hope they come back to you, and…you try to believe, but all you can think of is…," Jim's voice broke and a small sob escaped from his lips, tears streaming down his face… "Is what you did wrong..."

"…Are we still talkin' about Deborah Clements"?

Jim laughed weakly and wiped away his fresh tears. Evan hesitated but then released Jim's shirt and put his hands on his friends shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze that he hoped felt reassuring. Their fight was over, and the shuddering pain in Jim's heart was quickly fading.

"I...I'm sorry Evan."

"Don't be, man, all those things you just said…Well, they might have a fragment of truth in them." Jim's eyebrows rose cynically and Evan laughed. "Alright, I admit, your right…You're completely right. I am an asshole."

"Maybe you should go find Deborah."

"…. Fuck."

"Evan…"

"No," he interrupted, "I should. I should apologize to her." Evan smiled and lifted his hands from his friend's shoulders. "You gonna be ok?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I'll just go back to sleep."

"Alright." Evan turned and gathered his boots in his hands, then turned back to Jim. "If you need anything…"

"Don't worry about me."

"Thanks man."

Jim turned to his bed as Evan left, but he didn't return to his position under the covers. Instead, he seated himself of the edge and reached for his nightstand.

'_I have to know. I have to know how he sees me.'_

The envelope was in his hands; fingers running over the smooth edges, his eyes caught on the blank corner.

'_I have to know…'_

Without thinking, Jim ripped the back open unmercifully and pulled out the contents, a single, tri-folded piece of paper.

'…_if I'm replaceable.'_

Shaking and breathless, Jim unfolded the paper.

'_I have to…'_

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**GRAND OPENING**

**Jekuvek-Threetoes Winery**

**Located **on Tortes, District 7, 104856 Limway rd.

Various **flavors** and **textures** available for different occasions.

**Packaging **and** shipping **available for long distances.

**Now hiring **for new positions.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A devastating wail tore from Jim's throat, the offending paper torn in two, the nightstand roughly toppled onto its side. Fresh tears streamed down the youth's face as he destroyed everything he could reach; books thrown across the room, a lamp smashed to the ground into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. The rampage continued until Jim's energy was utterly spent, and he caved onto his now bare bed. Painful sobs ripped through his body, but nothing compared to the searing heat in his chest. His heart, along with the paper, had been brutally severed into two.

"I hate you!" He screamed into the mattress. "I hate you, Silver!"

* * *

Next chapter up next week!


	4. Chapter 4

Wow, sorry for no updates. Working 40+ hours a week really takes a toll on a person. Hopefully I can wrap up this story in about 2 - 3 more chapters. Also, if you havent read "Perfect Imperfection" by Person4 this chapter is going to throw you a bit since there is some text from the original story.

Silver is going to be here soon. :D Excitement!!

* * *

"_"Lad, I can't stay. And I can't go back to Captain Amelia's ship. But maybe there're other things a pirate too old to pillage could do if he decided to go straight, somewhere where he won't need to fear the law finding him. I recall us speaking of one earlier, if I could figure out how you're supposed to go about getting wine out of grapes. If that were too happen, could I expect you to come callin' when you find yourself flying near wherever I settle?" _

_"In a second," …."Anywhere in the galaxy, just call and I'll come." _

_"I can't promise it now, Jimbo. I've been at this job for an awful long time to give it up now. But"… "There ain't much left in this universe I want now, aside from the chance to be there to watch you in your rise to glory." _

Jim woke the next morning, head throbbing and throat aching from his sobs. He slowly pushed himself to his knees, and stared blankly outside the window at the morning sun.

'_How long has it been since I've had that dream?'_

No, not a dream, a memory; Silver did say those words to him, and while he hadn't promised to call, Jim had fully believed in him.

…_."But maybe there're other things a pirate too old to pillage could do if he decided to go straight, somewhere where he won't need to fear the law finding him…."_

Jim stumbled off the bed and scanned among the wreckage on the floor for the flyer he had discarded last night in his rage. Something seemed…different. Something that was there last night, but that he had merely missed; something that was now important.

…"_I recall us speaking of one earlier, if I could figure out how you're supposed to go about getting wine out of grapes…."_

After a thorough search, Jim finally located the two halves and neatly placed them side by side. What was it that he had overlooked?

…_Jekuvek-Threetoes Winery.._

…" _If that were too happen, could I expect you to come callin' when you find yourself flying near wherever I settle…?"_

…_Hiring…_

…_Winery.._

…_"In a second," …."Anywhere in the galaxy, just call and I'll come…"_

…_Wine…_

…_Silver……  
_

* * *

The room was empty when Evan opened the door, knocking aside his Sociology book blocking the usually clear path.

"What the hell…Jim?"

There was no answer and, to Evan's horror, the room was in complete disarray. His entire library of books was strewn across the wooden floor, Jim's quilt hanging by one corner on his bed, and –'_oh Fuck'_ – his mothers lamp was in shards. Evan tiptoed past the damage into the center of the room, unable to believe the extent of the damage.

"Jim?!"

"Evan, are you ok? Can I come in?" A small, brown-haired head peeked in through the door, and green eyes widened behind thick rimmed glasses. "Evan? Wha..?"

"Stay out babe, there's broken glass." Evan's temper flared as he surveyed his room, and then he noticed the small paper on top of his still rightly placed pillow. Carefully working his way over, Evan stooped by his bed and read.

_Evan – _

_Sorry about the room, and sorry for leaving it this way_ – Evan squinted and re-read the sentence; the handwriting was sloppy, as though it had been hastily written – _but I just realized something I have to do. I don't know when I will be back, maybe soon, maybe not for a long while. I'll let you know as soon as I do. Thank you for being an asshole, and a friend._

_- Jim_

Evan smiled and tucked the note safely into his pocket, then carefully made his way back to the door before closing and locking it back up. Deborah stood against the wall, modestly holding her hands behind her back.

"What's wrong Evan? Somebody didn't break in, did they?"

"No, babe, it was just my roommate."

Deborah's head tipped to the side, quizzically. "The mentally challenged boy"?

Evan nodded, his eyes filled with false anguish. "He has these fits every now and then; he's very unstable – I'm the only one who can calm him down, and when I'm not here…Well…Things get broken, feelings hurt. It happens so often, but damn it, I just can't give up the hope that one day he'll be self-reliant, and won't have to rely on me so much." Evan pulled Deborah close, and placed his arm around her shoulders, who in turn snuggled into him.

"I can't imagine how much responsibility that must be, being responsible for another person like that! To not even be related and still have so much concern and compassion.." She sighed lovingly. "You're such a wonderful person, Evan."

He grinned. "I know."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Second to last chapter! Hooray!! :D

As always, story and characters (most of them) do not belong to me.

Prepare for odd accents. You have been warned!!

* * *

Jim clambered out of the poorly constructed carriage that he had occupied for the past eight hours; his back was sore and the rain that had started halfway through the ride had frozen him to the bone. The trembling boy drew his arms around himself tightly, not entirely sure if he was shivering from the cold, or the anticipation. There was a scuffling noise, and the tiny man who was his driver – Jim thought he much resembled a lizard he had seen once scamper under a rock – hobbled down to join him in the road.

"The'e aint no se'vice way out he'e, boy. You's gonna be fine?"

"I'll be ok, thanks." Jim fished some coins out of his pocket, desperate to get out of the rain, and deposited them in the mans eager hand. "Drive safely," he added, but the small lizard man had already climbed back into his post and was pulling away. Jim snorted irritably through his nose, and drawing his hood over his head, _'My hair's already soaked',_ he half walked, half ran up the dirt path. He was surprised by the house that sat on top of the gently inclining hill; he had expected a winery to require much more space, but as he neared the top the rolling acres behind the hill appeared, revealing more buildings surrounded by vine pastures. He finally reached the heavy wooden door and didn't hesitate to pound on the door.

"Hello? Hello, is anyone there?" _'…..Silver….?'_ "My name is Jim, and I…"

"Vho een God's name ees that?" The voice was _not_ Silvers, although it was certainly thick enough to be. Without warning the door was wrenched open, and Jim involuntarily jumped back as a bent, elderly man resembling a grasshopper appeared in the doorway. He had a short, white beard and was leaning heavily on a woven wood cane, but despite his fragile appearance he was only a few inches shorter than Jim – he suspected that at his full height the alien was much taller – and he looked incredibly displeased.

"Vho are 'ou voy? I don't know vho. Vhat do 'ou vant? Vhat do 'ou vant, voy!?" Jim was stunned into complete silence, and was only saved by the arrival of a second figure. This one – a woman – was the same as the man, but her face was gentler, her figure smoother, and instead of a beard she donned a curly white mass of hair on her head.

"Vally, dear 'ouve frightened heem. Poor voy, come eenside vhere its varm."

"Vendy! Ve don't know heem! Go avay, voy! Vhatever eet ees 'ou are selling, ve don't vant."

"Hush, Vally!," and Jim watched as, with surprising strength, Wendy gave Wally a harsh shove in the shoulder. The old man wailed and toppled out of view, as Wendy turned back to Jim, a warm smile on her face.

"Poor voy, 'ou are cold. Come eenside."

The fireplace in the corner looked positively inviting, but Jim shook his head. "Actually ma'am, I'm looking for an employee of yours. You are..," Jim fished the torn advertisement out of his pocket, "…you are Mrs. Jekuvek-Threetoes, correct?"

"Ah, I am voy! Vut, just call me Vendy Threetoes. Jekuvek," She thrust her thumb in the direction of her husband, who was sulking in a chair by the fire, "ees hee's last name. Vhen ve vere dating, oh so long ago it's veen, vell, he say that he vill take my name vhen ve are married. Vut men! The second ve are ved, he says 'Threetoes ees not good name', and I say, 'mavye Jekuvek is not good name, and vell in end, ve took both, ja? I tell 'ou, voy, men are…"

"Excuse me," Jim interrupted, quite confused by the couple's accents, "I'm sorry, but, the employee…"

"Ah! How foolish of me, voy. Yes, yes, and, ughh…vhat ees the name?"

"My name is Jim." The woman laughed, pleasantly.

"No, voy the name of vho 'ou are lookeeng for!"

"_Eedeeot."_

"Hush, Vally!"

Jim hesitated. He had considered the possibility that Silver had given the couple an alias – he was bound to have plenty – and carefully weighed his answer. "He…well, he has…um….he's." _'How to describe him without putting him at suspicion?'_

" 'Ou mean Varker?" Jim craned his neck to look around Wendy's head to where Wally was seated. "Hez the vierd one, the one vith all that macheenes…"

"Vally!"

"_That's him!_" The couple flinched at Jim's booming voice. "Where is he?"

"Cavin Vour", Wendy answered, still glaring at her husband, " 'ou are a freend?"

When she received no answer, Wendy glanced behind her to find the doorway empty; Jim had disappeared. The elderly woman poked her head around the corner far enough to see his fading figure heading for the cabins at the far end of the field.

"Vhat a handsome voy," she commented, "Strange, vut handsome."

"Hez an eedeeot Vendy; if I hafe zon like that, I dizown."

Wendy scoffed and muttered foul words about her husband before closing the door and sliding the bolt home.

* * *

The rain had become harder as Jim approached cabin four, feet nearly slipping out from under him as he clambered down the muddy hill.

'_Would it really be Silver?'_ There was more than one cybrog in the galaxy, and 'Barker' seemed like an odd choice for an alias. What if the flyer was just a coincidence and the cyborg that Jim was hurrying to see was a different man entirely?

'_No! It has to be him!'_

Panting for breath, Jim approached the cabin. A single four-pane window glowed brightly, and the boy was relieved that whoever occupied the cabin – Silver or otherwise – was home.

The reality of the situation finally hit the boy then. _'Silver could be on the other side of this door!'_ Three years of waiting, and at last, the possibility of being with his mentor was more than just a fleeting fantasy. Would the older man be happy to see him? He would have to be! He had sent Jim a flyer so the boy would come to him; he had to be anticipating him.

'_Only one way to find out.'_

Jim's heart pounded in his chest as he raised a trembling fist to knock on the door.

'_Here it goes…_._'_

Jim was bathed in light as the door suddenly opened, forcing the boy to squint, until a large silhouette filled the void, masking his smaller figure in shadow. Familiar mechanical whirring filled the air, and Long John Silver stood before him.

"Jimbo!"

* * *

Haha, thats all the Silver you get for now. :3  
Just as a notice, there is nothing really explicit in this story, so if anyone has been anticipating such things...sorry! I rated it M solely for the language.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N I've always hated my original ending to this story, so I decided to change it for my own sake. ^^;

* * *

A large grin spread across Jim's face. "Silver!"

The boy was immediately lifted off his feet, enveloped in Silver's powerful arms. Jim laughed and squirmed in the older mans embrace, wrapping his arms around the cyborg's large neck. All the boys fear dissolved at the feeling of Silver pressed so tightly against him – a feeling he thought he would never experience again. "Silver….I – I can't believe it's you!"

Silver chuckled and rubbed his back, sending a solar flare of joy through Jim's body. "Ye were expec'in' someone else, lad?"

Jim blushed and buried his face in the cyborg's neck, the stubble on the man's chin lightly scratching him. "No…I just…" Suddenly, he was pulled away out of the cyborg's grasp and placed back on his feet; Jim blinked up at the man in confusion until he felt Silver's heavy coat enclose his shoulders. "It's pourin' rain lad, an' yer shakin' like a leaf. Let's ge' ya inside 'efore ya catch yer death o' cold."

'_I'm not shaking because of the cold'_, Jim thought but he obediently entered through the threshold and into the warm cabin. He stepped aside as the cyborg closed the heavy wooden door, then walked across the room and pulled two chairs next to the lit iron-cast stove. The glow of the fire made Jim realize just how could he actually was. "Come over 'ere lad."

Again, he obeyed without question, sitting in his assigned chair as Silver took a small towel from a nearby cupboard, placing it on Jim's head and playfully tousling his drenched hair before sitting down himself. "W'at in blazes ar' ya doin' out on a nigh' like t'is, Jimbo?"

Jim was slightly taken aback by the question, and quickly began moving the towel to distract himself. "I came here to see you."

"In t'is storm?"

"Well, I didn't know it was gonna start pissin' rain on me halfway here. I would have been here sooner, but it took me a while to realize what that flyer you sent meant."

Silver flinched slightly. "Sorry 'bout t'at lad, bu' I've learne' from te past not ta sign me own letters. 'Esides…" A large grin spread across his face. "I knew t'at sharp mind o' yers wouldn' take long ta figure t'ings out."

Jim smiled modestly and glanced up at Silver; it was the first time he was able to truly survey the cyborg, now in the light of candles and the nearby stove. Silver was exactly as Jim remembered him in his dreams: the same bulky build that had at first intimidated the boy, the intricate details of his mechanical arm, even the wrinkles around his eyes. Nothing had changed save for the clothes on the older man's back. _'How much have__** I**__ changed?'_

As though Silver could read his thoughts, the cyborg grazed his eyes up and down Jim's body. "Ye've change' lad. Why, jus' look at ye!" Grinning, he leaned forward and grasped Jim's arm in his organic hand, fingers outlining the hardened muscle. "Yer not'in' like t'e scraggly lil' pup t'at I met in t'e galley all t'at time ago."

Jim felt his body temperature rise at the contact of Silver's hand, and he hesitantly met the cyborg's gaze. "Well, it's been a…a long time since you've seen me."

Silver's cheerful face fell, and Jim wished he hadn't spoken at all. "I kno' lad…It's been, 'bout t'ree years."

"Three years." Jim echoed.

The pair fell into a spell of awkward silence, only broken by the sound of the rain hitting the boarded roof and an occasional crack of the fire. Silver's grip on the boy's arm hadn't faltered, as though the cyborg was afraid that Jim would try and run away from him were he to let go. The solid contact was comforting, and Jim stared long and hard at the hand before finally drawing in a deep breath.

"A winery, huh?" He said. "That's funny; I didn't think you were serious when you said that back on Montressor."

"Heh, I wasn'; bu' as it turns ou'"…Jim looked up at the older man as he trailed off, but Silver wouldn't meet his gaze. "T'is was te only place t'at woul' take me. No' many places are sloppy in te paperwork nowadays."

"Really? I met the owners; that old man seems like he runs a tight ship."

At that, Silver snickered. "'E is, lad, ta be sure, bu' hes also as blind as an Aborian bat."

Their laughter quickly filled the cramp cabin, and Jim's heart felt lighter in his chest. Finally, the conversation was flowing, becoming less forced and more casual. Jim's free hand moved to nervously run through his hair and encountered the forgotten towel; he pulled the now damp cloth off his head and bunched it in his hand. "Thanks for that."

Silver motioned for the towel and stood, making his way to the counter on the far side of the room and leaving the place on Jim's arm cold. "Don' mention it Jimbo, I wasn' about ta let ya drip water all over me home."

Jim laughed and looked about the small cabin – it wasn't a place to be proud of, but it wasn't bad. The room he sat in contained a half kitchen as well as the stove, but scarcely much else. There was a door to his right, slightly ajar, that he presumed led to the bedroom. "Do they give all their employees one of these to live in?"

"Jus' abou'. Th' ones t'at got families usually go home; bu' t'ey got 'bout a dozen or so ot'ers waitin' ta be filled up."

Jim whistled. "They must be doing pretty good if they can afford that."

"Well, t'is is jus' a re-openin'. 'Parently t'eys been in business fer twenty years; t'is place 'ere is only a year old, bu'..."

Jim's mind froze, blocking out Silver's voice as he continued. "What did you say?"

Something in his voice made the cyborg turn; a confused look dominated his face. "Wha?"

"You said they've been open for a year." He was surprised how quickly his voice turned cold.

Silver didn't fail to notice either. "An' wha' of it, lad?"

Jim fished in his pocket for the crumpled flyer, smoothing it on his knee before returning his gaze to the older man. "The flyer says 'Grand Opening'. If they have been here for a year, how did you get this paper?"

The cyborg snorted, but seemed to hesitate slightly. "How do ya expect, lad? I found it."

"You're lying", Jim snarled; Silver's face quickly turned into a frown. "They wouldn't keep this laying around for a whole year. How did you get this?"

_Please let me be wrong._

"Jimbo.."

"_How. Did. You. Get. This." Please, please, please.._

Silver rolled his large shoulders. "T'ey gave it ta me, lad. When te'y first took me on."

He finally stood, letting Silver's coat fall to the floor. "A year ago?"

The man's downcast stare was all the answer Jim needed. The warmth in his body disappeared; his throat felt dry and constricted as tears flooded his eyes and he struggled to be calm. "You – you've been here a year?!"

_You're an asshole 'cause you take people for granted! Like they're replaceable!"_

Silver's head finally lifted; his face emotionless and controlled. "Aye, lad."

Jim's resolve shattered at his detached response and the tears finally overflowed.

"And you weren't going to tell me?"

"It don' make no difference how – "

"It makes all the difference!" Jim interrupted, gripping his short hair with clenched fists. "You said that you would call for me when you got a job! I – I thought…you…"

Silver moved towards him, his aged face reflecting concern. "Jimbo…"

"_They are!"_

"I thought you wanted to be with me."

"I do, lad." He took a step closer and Jim retreated, widening the space between them. "T'ats all I've been wantin' is ta be near ya again. Jus' let me explain…"

Jim shook his head violently, his tears multiplying by the second. "No, I don't – I don't want to hear it." The once cozy room was becoming heavy; the air was thick, difficult to breath, making Jim's panic rise. "I…I have to go!" He turned quickly and made for the door.

"Jimbo!" Jim ignored the cyborgs cry, forcing his legs to move towards the entrance. His fingers had just brushed the doorknob when a large arm circled his waist and pulled him back against Silver's chest – he had forgotten how surprisingly quick the man was. "Yer not leavin' like t'is, Jimbo."

What little self-restraint Jim had left snapped; he flailed uselessly in the older mans arms, sobbing openly. "L-Let me go! I d-don't wanna b-be here!" Suddenly, Jim was turned about so that he was facing Silver; caught in an embrace similar to when he first arrived at his doorstep. It was amazing how vastly different they felt. "Just let me g-go!"

He felt Silver's mechanical hand stroke his hair in an almost mockingly soothing manner; as though he were trying to serenade a rabid beast. "Easy, Jimbo. I'm not abou' ta let ya leave 'ere all upset."

"What the Hell do you care." Jim sobbed. "You don't care about me…"

"_Why the hell should I worry about one?"_

"T'at's not true."

"You're a liar!" Jim was screaming, his efforts to escape doubled. "You're a fucking liar, and you always have been!"

Silver snarled and Jim was pushed against the wall; he was pinned by the cyborg arm, while his chin was caught and lifted by Silver's organic hand. Jim expected to see rage in the mans face, but surprisingly, there was only honest sorrow.

"Ye wan' ta kno' why I lied ta ya; why I didn' send word ta ya? I didn' call fer ya cause I wan'ed ta see ya fer meself, ta tell ya to yer face t'at I came through." Stunned, Jim started to speak, but Silver pressed two large fingers against his lips. "No, ye wan'ed ta hear te reason, an' now yer gonna listen. Te moment I was sure t'at I would be hired on, I went ta collect ya an' bring ya back."

Jim hesitated to speak, but when he wasn't stopped he whispered. "Why didn't you?"

Silver sighed heavily; for the first time since Jim had met the resilient old man, he seemed weary. "I wan'ed ta, Jimbo. I swore nothin' woul' stop me from gettin' ta ye, bu'…"

"But what?" Jim pressed.

"When I finally got ta yer school, I saw ye in ta cour'yard. Ye looked so beautiful in yer uniform", despite his anger, Jim blushed, "an' ye were laughin' wit' yer friends. Ye looked so bet'er off t'an ye would be wit' me, a straggly old pirate. I knew ye wouldn' trade away bein happy, an' I had no righ' ta ask ya."

"Happy? Jim croaked. "Happy?! I've been miserable without you; you stupid, inconsiderate, _jerk_!" He slammed his fists into Silver's shoulders with each word, but the cyborg made no move to stop him. "Do you know how lonely I've been the past three years; watching everyone around me falling in love, having fun, and being with other people, while I sat around like an idiot and waited on a message you couldn't even promise me you would send?!" Fresh tears streamed down Jim's face, leaving watery stains in their wake. "Wondering every day if you forgot about me, or if you even cared about me anymore? And you let me feel that way because you were too much of a coward to ask me to go with you?"

Silver's sad face suddenly turned bitter, and his hands grabbed Jim's wrists almost painfully. "I ain't no coward, boy."

"Then why did you think I wouldn't choose you?!"

"'Cause ye did it before, Jimbo." Silver hissed, pulling the boy closer. "I gave ya ta same choice before, an' ye chose yer schoolin' instead o' me. I was proud of ya, ta be sure, bu' I…" The cyborg's strong voice faltered. "I couldn'…I couldn' take t'at again; it was easier ta keep ya away as me own choice…T'an ta be left behin'."

"_Because it hurts! It hurts to be left behind!"_

Jim gasped as a single tear escaped from Silver's good eye, rolling slowly down his long face. He gently pulled his hand from the mans loosened grip and wiped the droplet away with the pad of his thumb, fanning out his fingers against the heavy jaw.

"Silver." He whispered. "I…" Jim hesitated, then leaned up and pressed his lips against Silver's. It was what he had been waiting three years for; what he had been dreaming of since that night on the wine boat when he had first worked up the courage to kiss his friend and mentor.

It was as awkward three years ago as it was now. However; it was not Silver's prominent nose or Jim's comparatively small mouth that was odd; it was the wet and salty taste that issued from his own lips – no doubt stained from his innumerous amount of tears. But instead of pulling back, Silver leaned forward, cupping the back of Jim's head with his large hand, his experienced lips quickly taking control of the kiss.

It was perfect.

Jim gently broke away after several seconds, panting slightly. "Silver…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you doubt me."

Silver shook his head. "Don', Jimbo; yer no' ta blame; I let me own foolishness trick me into believin' somet'in t'at weren't true." His hand drifted from Jim's head to stroke his cheek. "Ye promised ta come whereve' I called ya, an' 'ere ya are. Me faithful lil' Jimbo."

Jim leaned back up and rested his lips close to Silver's. "Does that mean you still want me?"

"I neve' stopped, lad." He whispered. "An' w'at 'bout ye?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Silver chuckled warmly. "And, I want…I want to stay here tonight. Please? I don't want to be alone."

Jim felt the older man's lips lightly brush against his. "I'll neve' leave ye alone again, Jimbo."

"Promise?" Jim smiled.

"Promise." Silver closed the small distance between them, and sealed his promise with a kiss.

Jim had never felt safer, more comforted than when he woke in Silver's bed, the thick quilt blocking out the cold, and a powerful arm wrapped possessively around his waist. He knew it couldn't last – and it didn't – but for the weekend that it did last, Jim treasured every moment, every kiss and touch that they shared.

When Jim returned to school there was a noticeable change in him. He was more attentive, more warm and gracious with others. He barely stayed in his room, but preferred to be outside with his classmates, and was even convinced into going to a few parties. Most had no opinion as to the cause of his change. Some assumed that he was seeing a therapist; Evan, despite Jim's denial, described it as him finally getting laid.

Jim thought it funny, as he stared up at his white ceiling that nobody thought to suspect that he was in love.

"Jim, letter!"

Jim propped himself up on his elbow as Deborah bounced into the room, holding a thin envelope. "For me?"

"Yes, Mikks just dropped it off. I tried to explain to him now that he's in Evans fraternity he doesn't have to run mail anymore – but he keeps coming back."

Jim smiled. "I think he actually likes it. And it wouldn't be right to take away the only sense of importance that he has. So Evan is doing him a service, really."

"Oh! You're as bad as Evan!" She playfully slapped his knee before walking to the door. "I hope its good news! Bye!"

Jim waited until she closed the door to look at the envelope.

No return address. He had expected as much. Letters had been their only communication for some weeks, since finals had loomed their ugly heads and Jim couldn't afford to make the trip to see they cyborg. No doubt this was another attempt on Silver's part to convince him to temporarily drop his studies and come out to the winery.

Smiling, he carefully broke the seal; hoping this time for an actual letter verses an advertisement.

It was a written letter, as he hoped; however, it consisted of only two lines. It took barely two seconds for Jim to read the entire script. Then two more to re-read it, and thirteen seconds of simply staring.

It took him six minutes to hastily throw some clothes into a bag; twenty-one minutes to travel to the couch house and secure a carriage, and past experience had taught him that he had three hours more to go.

* * *

Silver smiled to himself as he heard the front door to his cabin open and slam close, knowing before the voice rang out who had entered. "Silver?!"

"In 'ere, boyo."

Exaggerated stomping filtered into the bedroom and the letter that he had sent only a day ago was thrown onto the dresser he faced. "What the hell is this?"

He examined the letter lazily. "Seems like me letter to ya."

"Don't be cute! Why did you send that?" Silver finally turned to face his – he wasn't quite sure what to call Jim – and saw genuine anger on his face; exactly as Silver had anticipated. "You don't send that in a letter! You're supposed to say it face to face – everyone knows that!"

The cyborg chuckled. "I kno', lad."

"Then why did you – ?"

"Well", Silver interrupted, slinking closer, "How else was I suppose' ta get ye down 'ere of yer own will?"

He saw the realization flash across Jim's face, but too late; Silver had his arms around the boy, mouths pressed together and his trap was complete. Jim was a sore loser, but soon his grumbles and curses devolved into mewls as Silver kissed up and down his body. He knew it was unfair what he wrote, but he had no intention of letting the boy down; he would say it a million times if Jim so desired.

Later tonight, of course. _Much_ later.

* * *

_Jimbo,_

_I love you_

_**END**_


End file.
